


A Second Chance

by JavisTG



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Canon Divergence, F/M, Time Travel, mockingjay au, time traveling!Katniss
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-01-24 02:57:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18562504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JavisTG/pseuds/JavisTG
Summary: Time travel AU: Katniss from Mockingjay winds up back the day before her sister’s first reaping. What does she do now that she knows what’s coming? Now that she knows how Peeta feels about her, and she knows how desperately she needs him, and what they could share? What on earth could she, or should she, even do/change? And what is she should lose it all again?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Everlark Fic Exchange on Tumblr. Springtime Edition 2019.
> 
> Prompt 110: A time travel AU: Katniss from Mockingjay, (any part of the book, it’s up to you), winds up back the day before her sister’s first reaping. What does she do now that she knows what’s coming? Now that she knows how Peeta feels about her, and she knows how desperately she needs him, and what they could share? What on earth could she, or should she, even do/change? And what is she should lose it all again? [submitted by wingletblackbird] 
> 
> With a huge thank you to 567inpanem for all the ideas and insightful questions.

The winding corridors of District 13 ― always dark and dreary― seem to stretch endlessly under the dim nighttime lights.

 

Katniss runs. Her legs ―still stiff after days of inactivity― complain with each stride. Her lungs burn.

 

Undeterred, the Mockingjay gasps for air and fights back the pain. She doesn’t stop. 

 

Turning a sharp corner, Katniss finds the supply closet which has become her haven. She pulls the door open, slips inside, and settles in the confined space hugging her knees tightly to her chest. Blanketed by the deepest dark, she heaves and cries.

 

It’s been almost a week since the rescue team brought Peeta back from the Capitol; nearly a week of recovering in silence; of waiting for the tracker jacker poison to leave his system; of hoping that Peeta ―her Peeta― will come back to her.

 

But it all seems pointless now. The boy she just saw thrashing against the restraints of his hospital bed isn’t the boy she once knew.

 

The kind baker’s son who took a beating so she could eat has been replaced by an angry mutt programmed to hate her.

 

Under the Capitol’s clutches, Peeta’s become what he dreaded the most: a piece in President Snow’s hateful Games; a government agent who can’t wait to see her dead.

 

Out of habit, Katniss repeats the words Plutarch and Prim have told her. _Hijacking. Poisoning. Conditioning. Torture._

 

Her sister seems to think that these words mean something ―that they somehow explain Peeta’s actions― but to Katniss, they’re nothing but empty sounds. As she repeats them, she knows that they offer no comfort. They’re not enough to bring her peace ―not when all she can see is the bitterness in Peeta’s eyes.

 

Frustrated, Katniss covers her face with her hands and yells releasing all her pent up-anger until her chest feels hollow. The walls of her snug hiding place echo back her despair. 

 

She wants to hold on to hope ―to find the strength to wait a little longer― but she’s tired; tired of being pushed and pulled, of not understanding what’s happening around her.

 

Exhausted, she lets her arms fall to her sides. Her entire body follows, sagging limply until her back is resting against the wall. Eventually, her breathing slows down. Her tears dry out.

 

Right before fatigue finally takes over, one last thought crosses her mind, “ _I wish I could go back._ ”

 

* * *

 

 

It's already morning when Katniss stirs.

 

With slow, lazy movements, she stretches ―taking a few seconds to enjoy the contentment that follows a good night’s sleep.

 

Her eyes blink open and, as the fog of slumber fades, she turns on her side to find her sister sleeping next to her.

 

Tears well in Katniss’s eyes at the sight of Prim looking so peaceful. She can’t even remember the last time she woke up feeling like this, content and safe, free from the night terrors and the pressure of being the Mockingjay; of being a victor.

 

Overcome with joy, Katniss runs her fingers through Prim’s golden hair pushing the tousled strands away from her face. 

 

A small smile turns Prim's lips in response, but she doesn’t wake up. Sleepily, she wraps her arms around her pillow and lets out a contented sigh. There’s no trace of sorrow, no sign of worry, marring her delicate features.

 

Katniss is still marveling at how serene her sister looks when her brain finally catches on.

 

Realization, painful and sharp, hits her hard. Her body goes stiff as she takes the blow.

 

The girl sleeping next to her --with her dirty blond hair and rosy cheeks-- looks a lot like her sister, but she’s too young to be Prim.

 

With her peace shattered, her senses go on high alert and, for the first time since waking up, Katniss notices the light ―the warm rays of rising summer sun that filter through the frayed curtains casting a golden glow over everything they touch.

 

Her breath hitches. She’s never seen light like this in District 13.

 

She sits up in an instant, grabbing fist fulls of blankets as she tries to hold on to her sanity.

 

 _My name is Katniss Everdeen. I am seventeen years old. My home is District 12. I was in the Hunger Games. I escaped. The Capitol hates me. Peeta was taken prisoner. District 13 rescued him._ With a shuddering sigh, she finishes, _he hates me too._

 

As her heart settles, Katniss glances around taking in her surroundings, and carefully taking stock of everything she sees. A couple of shelves with a handful of knickknacks and some school supplies; a dresser that’s seen better days; a small desk with a chair.

 

The sight of the shabby furniture tears at her heart. Everything seems so familiar, and yet…

 

_How can this be? There is no District 12. There is no District 12. There is no…_

 

Her eyes land on a second bed on the far side of the room. It’s empty, but the rumpled sheets tell her someone’s slept in it. _Mother_.

 

Still too rattled to move, Katniss breathes the crisp morning air. The sweet scent of fresh mint tea that lingers in the room fills her lungs soothing her anxiety away.

 

As she slowly releases the air, Katniss begins to accept what her eyes tell her, what her gut already knows.

 

District 12 may be gone, but this feels too real to be a dream. Somehow, she’s gone back to the Seam. 

 

* * *

 

 

Being careful not to disturb Prim, Katniss gets up from the bed and makes her way to the bathroom.

 

She’s about to close the door behind her when, out of the corner of her eye, she spots Mrs. Everdeen moving around in their small kitchen.

 

Katniss stops for a second to take in the scene, smiling fondly at the sight of her mother getting breakfast ready ―a small routine she hadn’t even realized she missed. Just one more thing President Snow’s bombs have taken away from her.

 

With a sigh, she goes into the bathroom.

 

The girl in the mirror is someone Katniss hasn’t seen in a long time. She’s small and scrawny, but she stands tall. Her eyes are bright and alert, a far cry from the dull gaze she’s seen reflected lately. The healthy glow in her sun-kissed cheeks betrays the long hours she spends hunting in the woods.

 

 As she inspects her hands and arms, Katniss finds the small scars the Capitol doctors removed after she won her first Game. The ugly scar left by Johanna’s knife is nowhere to be found.

 

She still doesn’t understand what’s happening to her, ―why she’s back there or why everything seems so real― but she’s too tired and broken to look for an explanation. With a slow, soothing breath, she decides it’s pointless to question it.

 

The last thing she remembers is crawling into a closet and hoping for a chance to start over. Maybe this is it. So, for as long as this dream ―or whatever this is― lasts, she’s going to make the best of it.

 

She’s already washed and changed when there’s a knock on the door.

 

Fear sets in. _Peacekeepers_. Every muscle in her body tightens as she strains to hear any movements outside her house. There’s nothing.

 

Moving quickly, Katniss finishes braiding her hair. She still hasn’t figured out how to avoid her visitors when she hears Prim walking across the living room.

 

“Coming,” Prim calls out just as Katniss pushes the bathroom door open. She wants to yell at her sister to stop, but it’s too late. Prim is already opening the door and greeting someone. The cheerful tone in her voice takes Katniss by surprise, but the familiar lilt that answers back eases her worries.

 

“Morning, Catnip,” Gale says looking past Prim who is already heading for the bathroom to get ready for the day. 

 

Katniss smiles. Just like Prim, Gale looks younger. There’s an innocence in his smile she hasn’t seen in ages. The disappointment and heartbreak that will soon start chipping away at his spirit haven’t found him yet.

 

“Morning,” Katniss answers as she motions for him to step inside. The heavy satchel she sees hanging from his shoulders reminds her of why he’s there. “Good haul?”

 

“Yup.” After greeting Mrs. Everdeen, Gale walks to the kitchen table and drops his bag on it. “I found a couple of rabbits.”

 

“Nice!” Katniss reaches her friend’s side and watches as he pulls two brown rabbits out of his bag.

 

Watching her friend in action, Katniss is struck by how clearly she remembers this moment. Gale dropping by in the mornings was a regular occurrence ―especially on Fridays when he took the afternoons off and left Katniss in charge of trading whatever he caught― but the two fat rabbits on her table weren’t so common. She remembers taking this pair to town and trading them for oil, grains, soap, and candles.

 

Glancing back, Katniss takes a quick look at the digital clock flashing at the top of their Capitol-issued TV. The date displayed in bright shining numbers is more a confirmation than a surprise. It’s her last day of school --the day before Prim’s first reaping; the last day of her old life.

 

“Are you staying for breakfast?” Mrs. Everdeen asks breaking into her daughter’s thoughts.

 

Gale shakes his head. “Thank you, Mrs. E, but I have to go home. I promised Rory we would walk to school together.”

 

Mrs. Everdeen nods in understanding. Gale usually stays over for breakfast, but this is a special day.

 

Without another word, the healer pulls two soft tea towels out of a drawer and hands them over to her daughter.

 

Katniss lifts the rabbits off the table and, a moment later, they’re both wrapped and on their way to the icebox. “I’ll take them to town after school,” she tells Gale. “Did you bring your list?”

 

“Mm-hmm.” With a graceful flourish, Gale pulls the crumpled paper out of his satchel. “It’s just the usual. A couple extra candles would be nice if you can get them.”

 

“Sure.” She pockets the list.

 

“Alright.” With a sigh, Gale sets the satchel back on his shoulder. The empty bag sags limply hugging his long torso. “I better get going. Don’t want to be late for my last day.”

 

Katniss nods. After he’s exchanged a quick goodbye with Mrs. Everdeen, she follows him out of the kitchen.

 

Gale’s almost at the front door when he stops and turns around. “Are you going to the Meadow after your trades?”

 

Katniss stops short. She knows what’s coming.

 

Every year the children of District 12 gather in the Meadow to celebrate their last day of school, and to try to distract themselves from the fact that the reaping is only a few hours away.

 

Like in a dream, Katniss remembers going to the Meadow with Prim that year and sharing a candied apple with her and Rory.

 

She also remembers spending a lot of time alone with Gale ―and talking about seemingly trivial things― while their siblings ran around playing games and greeting their friends.

 

Now, as she looks into her friend’s expectant eyes, she wonders whether the words he’s about to say will be meant in something other than friendship.

 

_Was this moment the beginning of a courtship?_

 

She hadn’t considered it at the time. How could she, she was entirely in the dark, but now that she knows how Gale feels about her, she’s suddenly not so sure anymore.

 

Knowing he’s waiting for an answer, Katniss nods.

 

Gale smiles. “Maybe we could go together after you stop by my place.”

 

Katniss’s mouth goes dry. If this is a second chance ―an opportunity to do better― shouldn’t she be doing things differently?

 

Before her mind trails down the confusing path of trying to figure out what she should and shouldn’t be doing, Katniss decides that, in the big scheme of things, Gale’s invitation doesn’t matter much. She can give him an answer now, and change her mind later.

 

Returning his smile, she tells him she’ll meet him there.

 

Gale nods. His eyes don’t betray any hidden agendas. _Maybe this was just a friendly invitation after all._

 

Turning on his heel, he pulls the door open and leaves.

 

* * *

 

 

Breakfast was never a big affair when Katniss lived in the Seam. Compared to the feasts her mother used to make in Victors’ Village, today’s meal seems paltry; and still, Katniss doesn’t even have to try the modest spread of oats, goat cheese, and dried fruit to know it’s tastier than anything she’s ever eaten in District 13.

 

The truth is that, despite it all, the Everdeen’s were already doing better than most at this point in their lives.

 

Once breakfast is over, Katniss takes the empty dishes to the sink. “Let’s go, little duck!”

 

Prim kisses her mother goodbye and, a moment later, the sisters are out the door and on their way to school.

 

It’s a beautiful summer day, warm and balmy, but the anxiety of the looming reaping ―mixed with the anticipation of the long-awaited school break― sends a ripple of nervous energy coursing through the air.

 

The people of the Seam rush by, eager to start their day, but Katniss doesn’t hurry. Walking hand in hand with Prim, she marvels at the sight of her District ―still intact and alive, humming with activity.

 

Amazed, her eyes flit here and there as she takes in the world around her. The uneven paving stones beneath her feet; the green leaves that cover the trees; the joyous blue of the cloudless sky.

 

The woods beyond the fence call out to her, lush and bountiful. So when she spots a small flock of swallows flying past on their way to the forest, she keeps her gaze on them ―following as they disappear in the distance, far beyond the run-down shacks and the ramshackle outline of the Hob.

 

When they reach the town, Katniss’s breath hitches.

 

The last time she was there she saw nothing but a pile of rubble and ash, a cemetery for her fallen people. But there are no ruins today ―they haven’t been created yet. The buildings lining the square are shabby and neglected, the paint on their façades chipped and faded, but they’re still there, standing exactly as she remembers them.

 

Her heart quickens as soon as she spots the bakery. Tilting her head in its direction, Katniss asks, “It's still early. Would you like to take a look at the cakes?”

 

Prim’s eyes snap open in surprise. Katniss has never shown any interest in the beautiful cakes Mr. Mellark sells. If anything, she usually has to be dragged over there. “Really?”

 

“Mm-hmm.”

 

Before Katniss can change her mind, Prim changes course and quickens her step. She doesn’t let go of Katniss's hand until they’ve reached the shop.

 

“Wow!” Prim exclaims getting as close to the window as she dares. A two-tier cake, frosted in pale pink fondant and adorned with sugar cherry blooms, takes most of the space.

 

Katniss laughs at her sister’s enthusiasm. Stepping closer, she scans the baked goods on display until she finds what she’s looking for. “I like these better,” she says once she finds the frosted cookies she knows only Peeta could have painted. “The flowers are beautiful.”

 

Prim sighs. “They’re gorgeous.”

 

Katniss reaches for one of Prim’s braids and gives it a playful tug. “Maybe one day, little duck.”

 

“Yeah.” Prim’s eyes, bright and hopeful, land on her sister’s. “Maybe for a birthday.”

 

Katniss nods. She’s about to tell Prim that it’s time to go when the sound of creaking hinges―followed by the bakery’s front door swinging open― makes her turn.

 

An instant later, Peeta walks out. 

 

A small whimper escapes Katniss’s lips as she gasps ―the sight of him running through her like morphling, dulling the pain of the last few weeks and mending her broken heart.

 

He looks good. Younger, of course, ―just like everyone else― but he also looks healthy, strong, whole. The softness in his features reminds Katniss of his kindness, his innocence, his warmth. 

 

The door whines closed. Peeta starts walking but, as soon as he sees the two girls standing in front of the bakery, he stops short.

 

“Morning, Peeta.” Katniss blurts out.

 

Startled, Peeta looks up at her. As recognition sets in, his blue eyes widen.

 

Katniss’s cheeks turn pink. She knows she's being too bold. She’s never spoken to Peeta in this timeline, and there shouldn't be so much familiarity in her voice, but there’s nothing she can do to change what she’s done so, she gestures towards the window and keeps talking, “We were just looking at your cakes.”

 

“Oh,” Peeta breathes out, his deep blue eyes focused on her.

 

His lips part but, before he can say anything, Prim pivots around. Her eyes sparkle with wonder when she asks, “You make these?”

 

Snapping out of his stupor, Peeta turns his attention to Katniss’s sister and nods.

 

“They're amazing!” Prim exclaims.

 

Peeta's shoulders pull back as he straightens up, seemingly growing taller under Prim’s praise. The shy smile Katniss has missed so much tugs at his lips. “Thank you! Which one do you like?”

 

“I like all of them!” Prim’s smiling so brightly the morning sun’s put to shame. “But the pink cake is my favorite today!”

 

“Well, that one’s a special order.” Relaxing his stance, Peeta slips his hands in his pants’ pockets and begins bouncing a little in place. “I had to spend a little more time with it.”

 

Peeta’s nervous tic makes Katniss’s heart ache. She remembers him rocking on his feet like that during their first trip to the Capitol, but never since. The Peeta who kissed her under the Quarter Quell’s pink sky couldn’t do that anymore―not with the prosthetic he had to wear.

 

Unaware of her thoughts, Peeta's eyes flit back to Katniss. “And you…Katniss? Which one do you like?”

 

Katniss points to the small dish with cookies on the lower shelf. “The yellow dandelions. They’re ―,”

 

The front door creaks and swings open again. Rye ―Peeta’s middle brother― steps out onto the street and turns in their direction.

 

A lump settles in Katniss’s throat at the sight of him alive and well. With a shaky sigh, she pushes it down.

 

Rye pats his brother on the back. “Hey, Peet, let’s go!” He’s about to tousle Peeta’s hair when his eyes land on the Everdeen girls. A slow, mischievous grin turns his lips. Tilting his head in Katniss’s direction, he says, “Morning, ladies. Ready for school?”

 

Prim and Katniss answer with twin nods and, without another word, the four of them start walking.

 

The group has almost reached the end of the block when Prim shyly addresses Peeta once more. ”So, when did you start frosting cakes?”

 

Peeta smiles, grateful for the conversation opener. “When I was eight. My father taught me how to make the frosting and mix the food coloring when I was younger, but I wasn’t allowed to decorate anything big until he made sure I could do it properly.”

 

“He’s the only one of us who has any real talent for it,” Rye pipes in. “Bran and I are good at kneading and baking, but we don’t have the patience or the skill Peeta has.”

 

“You’re a true artist,” Prim says with as much seriousness as she can muster.

 

“Thank you, Prim,” Peeta says, evidently touched by the girl’s heartfelt words.

 

Prim’s eyes snap open at the sound of her name. She has traded with Mr. Mellark a few times ―and she knows Katniss takes her squirrels to the bakery― but she’s never imagined that the baker’s sons would know who she is.

 

Encouraged by Peeta’s familiarity, Prim starts to talk once more but, before she can really say anything, Katniss gives her arm a little squeeze. “You better hurry, little duck, the bell’s about to ring.”

 

Prim’s shoulders slump, but she doesn’t argue. Using her most winning smile, she turns to the baker’s sons. “See you later!”

 

“See you later, Prim!” The brothers answer in unison making Prim’s smile widen even more.

 

As soon as Prim walks away, Rye stops and gestures towards the gym on the back of the school. “Alright, guys, I’m headed that way.” Playfully, he bumps his fist on his brother’s shoulder. “See you later, bro.” His blue eyes land on Katniss and he nods once. “Katniss.”

 

Fighting the sudden urge to cry, Katniss quickly nods back.  

 

The schoolyard is crowded with busy people rushing towards their classrooms, but Katniss sticks by Peeta’s side. “History class?” she asks once they’ve reached the main building.

 

Peeta nods, his cheeks turning beet red.

 

The thought of Peeta ―articulate, charming, smooth-talking Peeta― being tongue-tied around her is so endearing that she can’t help but gift him with a smile.

 

The small gesture seems to be all the encouragement he needs. After clearing his throat, Peeta asks, “So, are you going to the Meadow tonight?”

 

Without hesitation, Katniss nods. “You?”

 

“I have to cover for Rye at the bakery,” he explains in a rush, “but I’ll be there after we close.”

 

“I have some stuff I have to do too. I probably won’t get there before five.”

 

Peeta nods. The spark in his eyes tells her he wants to ask her something else ―he might even be looking for the words to ask her out more formally― but something seems to be stopping him.

 

The door to their classroom is only a few steps away when a fragment of an old conversation comes back to her mind. “I knew you had something with Gale,” Peeta had said. “I was jealous of him before I even officially met you.”

 

Katniss stops short. As far as she knows, this is her one chance to spend some quality time with Peeta before they’re both thrown into the Capitol’s clutches. She’s not about to waste it by following District 12’s social rules.

 

Reaching for Peeta’s arm to stop him, she asks, “Maybe I’ll see you there?”

 

Peeta whirls around. His golden eyelashes shine under a beam of the morning sun. His goofy grin melts her heart. “We could meet by the bonfire.”

 

Katniss nods. “A little after five?”

 

“Mm-hmm.”

 

She’s still holding on to his bicep when Tessa, a miner’s daughter who’s in their class, clears her throat to get their attention. “Going in?” the girl asks with a pointed look.

 

Flustered, Katniss lets go of Peeta. “Yeah, sure.”

 

With Tessa trailing closely behind, Katniss and Peeta walk into their classroom. She wants to stay by his side a little longer, but their classmates are coming in, and she doesn’t want to draw unnecessary attention to her actions.

 

Before walking away to her assigned seat by the window, she turns to look at him. “See you later, Peeta.”

 

Peeta’s smile has never been brighter. “Later, Katniss.”

 

* * *

 

 

Katniss rests her chin on her hand and stares out the window. She’s almost two years older than she was the first time she lived this day. She’s survived two arenas, ignited a revolution, and rallied troops into battle but, as she longingly looks out onto her woods, she feels as lost as a piece of driftwood floating out at sea.

 

As soon as Mr. Harris’s class had begun, Katniss had blocked out the world to let her mind wander; thinking the two-hour class would give her enough time to understand her current situation and to figure out what to do with this extraordinary second chance at life.

 

Her first instinct had been to take her family out into the woods and run. It wasn’t a new plan, she had considered it so many times it had become a part of her, but knowing about District 13’s existence and location made it seem easier than ever before.

 

 _We could just sneak under the fence and head out over there,_ she reasoned. _Even if I'm not the Mockingjay, we've got some valuable skills. President Coin would welcome us with open arms._

 

The project was simple enough but, before long, the whole notion began to unravel. Because, even though Katniss believed it was a good idea, once she considered all the ramifications, she could see it was also unrealistic. There were just too many variables, too many factors she couldn’t control.

 

Prim and her mother were her first obstacle. She knew they loved and trusted her ―she was sure they would follow wherever she led― but that didn’t mean she’d be able to convince them to abandon everything they knew in such short notice; not at this point in time.

 

And, even if she somehow got them to leave in less than 24 hours, how would they manage in the woods? Yes, summertime meant warmer temperatures and easy access to food, but Katniss didn’t have enough supplies to venture out ―she certainly didn’t have enough time or money to buy them.

 

Then, there was Peeta. Who was currently seating just a few rows ahead of her with his head bent sideways as he scribbled something on his notebook ―most likely doodling or sketching in the way she knew he did when he was bored. There was no way she could leave him behind, ―not when Effie was just a few hours away from pulling his name out of the reaping bowl― but how could she bring him along? Even if he did have a crush on her, they had only spoken for the first time this morning. He was a merchant boy who had never been on the other side of the fence. What could she possibly say to him to make him escape out unto the unknown?

 

As she turned her alternatives over in her head, her mind flitted back to Gale ―considering him in the way she always did when she thought about the woods. He wasn’t in any imminent danger ―he wasn’t about to get reaped, and nobody knew who he was― but Katniss couldn’t see herself leaving without him. The idea to escape had initially come from him, after all. But ―just like her― Gale wasn’t alone; and, even if he had been willing to help her, she couldn’t ask him to leave his siblings and Hazelle behind.

 

Finally, there was the reaping. As it turned out, Katniss's main reason for wanting to escape was also her most significant hurdle. The more she thought about it, the better she understood that avoiding it wasn’t really an option.

 

With a soft sigh, Katniss drops her hands to her lap and silently admits her defeat. No matter what, she and Prim are expected to register for the draw the following day. Sure, they might be able to get out of participating by not showing up for the registration but, as soon as the process is completed, and the list of available names is crossed out, peacekeepers will be sent out to investigate.

 

At the front of the class, Mr. Harris catches Katniss’s attention by reminding his students of the consequences for those who fail to register. “Empty domiciles will immediately trigger an investigation. This means that search parties will be deployed using every resource available, including ―but not limited to―  all Capitol hovercraft present in the area.” With a stern look, Mr. Harris glances around the class letting his words of warning linger in the damp air for a moment. “Is that understood?”

 

With a quiet grumble, Katniss joins her classmates in assuring Mr. Harris that he’s been heard.

 

As her teacher starts talking about what constitutes proper attire for reaping day, Katniss withdraws into her thoughts once more and, with a sinking heart, comes to terms with the fact that knowing what’s about to happen doesn’t mean that she can alter her past. Not in any meaningful way, at least.

 

Deep down, she knows that she might have had a shot at escaping detection on her own; but her would be companions don’t know their way around the woods. A Capitol hovercraft would easily find them, and then…

 

For an instant, she imagines Prim, wearing the uniform of a faceless servant as she works alongside the red-headed Avox girl from the training center and a heavy lump settles in her throat.

 

Blinking to fight the tears welling in her eyes, Katniss promises herself that ―no matter what― that won’t be her sister’s future. No, as much as she wants to run and hide, Katniss knows she can’t.

 

Now, as she sits in her musty old classroom and stares at the back of Peeta’s and Madge Undersee’s heads, a new idea takes shape.

 

She can’t avoid the reaping ―and she probably can’t escape the Game either― but that doesn’t mean she can’t change things.

 

She already knows a lot more than she did before and, who knows, maybe that will make a difference. She won't be able to save everyone, but she might still be able to save not only Prim, and her mother, and Gale ―like she originally wanted― but also Peeta, and Madge, and some of the others.

 

As Mr. Harris prattles on about the proper protocol for reaping day, Katniss finally relaxes into her seat and smiles. Maybe, if she gets things right this time around, she won’t have to watch her district burn. 

 

As her gaze returns to her woods once more, Katniss doesn’t think about food, supplies or hunting equipment anymore. For the first time in a long while, the huntress is too busy dreaming up ways to spend more time with Peeta ―the old Peeta― before the nightmare of their future begins catching up to them to think about anything else.

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

It's still early when Katniss, Prim, Gale, and Rory reach the Meadow. 

 

There's a handful of young merchant couples visiting the booths their neighbors have set up, and a few kids from the Seam; older teenagers like Gale and Katniss with their younger siblings in tow. But most people are still at home.

Some are waiting for their parents —who have to get off work and wash up before going out. Others are waiting for the Capitol construction crew to be done with the reaping stage; because they can't stomach the idea of celebrating anything while the clanging of hammers and the buzz of drills and chainsaws fill the air with their monotonous soundtrack —a prelude of the pain which will accompany them in the weeks to follow. 

 

Hand in hand, Katniss and Prim explore the stalls with the two Hawthorne brothers trailing close behind.

 

Mr. Donner's booth is the first to catch their eye. His array of gumdrops and colorful candied fruits makes Prim and Rory smile. 

 

"Maybe we could get something from here this time," Prim says.

 

Rory bites his lip. "Let's check the other booths before we decide. Yeah?"

 

Prim agrees, and the group keeps on walking. 

 

Their next stop is in front of Mrs. Kipling, the greengrocer, who sells popcorn and an assortment of nuts. This time, it's Gale who pushes them to move on. 

 

By the time they reach Mr. Porter —the barkeeper who sometimes buys Prim's cheese— a small line has begun to form. His tart lemonade and iced mint tea are crowd-pleasers on warm summer days and, once night falls and the crowds start to thin, he'll pull out the stronger stuff. The line will be even longer then.

 

The last stall belongs to the bakery. Katniss spots Rye selling butter cookies, small cheese buns, and pound cake by the slice.  _ That's why Peeta's at the bakery today _ , she muses as her group comes to a stop.

 

"OK, guys, now that we've seen everything, what would you like?" Gale asks.

 

Just like last time, Rory and Prim begin debating over what to get. Rory prefers popcorn, but they already had some at the last market fair, and Prim argues that it's her turn to choose. 

 

Katniss smiles fondly as they squabble. Despite everything, Prim and Rory can still behave like children sometimes.

 

When they finally ask for her opinion, Katniss casually mentions the candied apples she remembers everyone enjoyed.

 

With all parties in agreement, Gale and Katniss pool their coins together. "We could also get some pistachios," he suggests after counting them. 

 

"I'll get them," Rory quickly offers. 

 

With a nod, Gale puts the coins in his brother's open hand. 

 

The simple gesture tugs at Katniss's heart. Gale is done with school already. In a few more days, he'll start working in the mines, and everyone in his family will have to take on new roles and new responsibilities.

 

Just like Katniss, Gale's kept his siblings from taking on too many obligations but —regardless of what happens in the morning— lighthearted, innocent Rory, will have to start acting more and more like a grownup now.

 

With their apple and pistachios, the group walks away from the stands. After searching for a bit, they settle to eat under one of the tall trees lining the Meadow.

 

It's a sunny afternoon. The sounds of construction have finally been replaced by the cheerful song of the blackbirds perched high on the branches above them, and the green expanse is quickly filling up with people who are eager to enjoy the balmy weather and take a stroll. 

 

Katniss is still laughing at one of Rory's silly jokes when she notices Peeta walking on the opposite side of the Meadow. 

 

Once again, she's struck by how good he looks. The white shirt and khaki trousers he's wearing are humble and worn —a far cry from the stylish clothes Portia will design for him— but they make him look young and wholesome. 

 

Her heart speeds up as she sees him brush a blond wave from his face. This is the boy she remembers when she closes her eyes; the one who stood by her even when they were little more than acquaintances; the one who Snow took away. 

 

The last thought makes her so sad that she has to avert her eyes. 

 

Next to her, Prim chews the last of her apple, and smacks her lips in appreciation once the treat is gone.

 

Encouraged by her sister's happiness, Katniss looks back up. Peeta's not alone anymore. Delly and her brother, Sam, have joined him. 

 

As the trio reach the stand with the sweets, Katniss sees a fourth person. A slim merchant girl with big round eyes and strawberry blond hair who immediately takes her place next to Peeta when she joins the group. 

 

Peeta turns to greet the girl and gets a pleasant smile in return.

 

The candied apple turns to lead in Katniss's stomach as she watches the exchange. 

 

Dizzy, her mind speeds through a jumble of memories from the last two years and comes back empty. She's sure. Peeta never said anything about courting anyone else. 

 

Her disappointment teeters on the brink of rage —hot and blinding, the kind that courses through her like molten lava and makes her want to smash vases and claw at people's faces. But she knows she can't do any of that, so she clenches her fists and sets her jaw to keep it contained. 

 

Peeta turns to Sam, who's waving his arms around as he explains something, and he and Delly laugh. 

 

The exchange reminds Katniss of Delly's words, "I used to tell people he was my brother."  _ They certainly look like siblings _ , she thinks as her fists open up and relax.

The pretty merchant girl looks at her shoes; her cheeks have turned pink. She's embarrassed. It's a small detail —the fact that this girl seems ill-at-ease with her companions— but it's enough to put Katniss's mind at rest. With astonishing speed, her anger ebbs. 

 

Exhausted after the emotional upheaval, Katniss looks down. Staring at the thin layer of dust covering her boots, she wonders --once again-- what she's doing there. Why was she sent back to witness this? She doesn't need to see Peeta talking to some other girl!

 

"You OK there, Catnip?" Gale asks with a soft pat on her shoulder. 

 

Forcing on a smile, Katniss looks up. Rory and Prim are also staring at her, waiting for an answer. "Yeah." She points to her throat and coughs. "I think I swallowed through the wrong pipe."

 

"Want me to get you some water?" Gale offers.

 

She shakes her head no and clears her throat again for effect. 

 

Satisfied that she's all right, the group resumes their conversation.  

 

Looking past Prim's shoulder, Katniss follows Peeta and his friends as they move on to the next stand. 

 

The group stops to talk to Mrs. Kipling. They all smile, and even laugh politely at something Katniss can't hear —something she can't even begin to guess— and she's struck by how little she knows about this particular period in Peeta's life. 

 

She's always assumed the baker's son never approached her because he thought she was with Gale —and because the Seam-Merchant divide would have probably made things hard for him at home— but she never considered that there might have been someone else; some sweet merchant girl who laughed at his jokes and wore pretty dresses or endured uncomfortable situations to try to please him. 

 

She's about to make up an excuse to flee the scene and go find a dark closet in which to hide when a piece of an old conversation comes back to her mind.

 

"So, since we were five, you never even noticed any other girls?" Katniss had asked back in the cave of their first Game—back when she was trying to get sponsors, and she thought Peeta was just making up stories as he went along.

 

"No," Peeta had answered, pressing his cheek to the top of her head, "I noticed just about every other girl, but none of them made a lasting impression but you."

 

That's all it takes for what remains of her sorrow to go away. A memory. 

 

Peeta's words —the old Peeta's words— are all the reassurance she needs. A reminder that through it all, she's always been on his mind. Yes, there might have been other girls —he's never denied it— but she's always been the most important one, and he has proven it over, and over, and over again. 

 

As she sits there, nestled between her sister and Gale, she knows no one watching could say the same about her.

 

"Want some?" Gale offers the bag of pistachios. As she takes it into her small hands, she can't help but think about him back in Thirteen wearing a soldier's uniform and sneaking her food from his plate. 

 

She hasn't said anything, talking to Gale about the "deep stuff" has never been easy, but she's grateful for his friendship over the last few weeks, and for the fact that he seems to have put his feelings aside. It's as if he's stepped down. As if he knows, even without her saying it, that she's made her choice. 

 

As she sees him now --joking and laughing with their siblings, blissfully unaware of what the world is about to unleash on them-- she has to admit that she hasn't been very fair to him, either. Whether she's meant to or not, through her silence, she's also been stringing him along. 

 

_ Not this time _ , she promises.

 

Peeta and his group reach the bakery's stand. A few feet away, a handful of vendors are already setting up the bonfire. 

 

While Rye talks to his brother's companions, Peeta slips his hands into his pockets and scans the crowd. When he finds Katniss sitting under the tree, he stills. His smile falters. 

 

All the way across the Meadow, Katniss reads the self-doubt, the all too familiar question in his eyes. "Did I misunderstand?"

 

"You didn't!" She wants to yell at him. But she doesn't. She can't. She knows what he sees: Gale and her, laughing and sharing a bag of nuts. 

 

_ Enough!  _

 

Katniss pushes the bag of pistachios into Gale's hands. She stands up and brushes the bits of nut dust which have fallen on her lap. "Alright, I'm off!"

 

Gale raises a questioning eyebrow. "Where are you going?"

 

"To the bonfire. I'm meeting a friend there."

 

Her answer does nothing to satisfy Gale's curiosity. "A friend? Who?"

 

Katniss crosses her arms and glares at her hunting partner. "What is this, Twenty Questions? You're not the only person I know, you know?"

 

"I didn't say I was…" Gale shrugs. "I just—,"

 

The look of utter confusion on his face makes her laugh. _  This is what I would have done back then,  _ she realizes. _  I would have just laughed. Because, while I owe him honesty, I don't owe him any explanations.  _

 

She's still smiling when she adds, "I'll see you later." Her eyes find Prim's --if her sister is surprised by this sudden change in plans, she doesn't show it. "Are you going to meet up with Penny now?"

 

"Yeah," Prim points to the spot where the main road from the Seam reaches the Meadow. "She's meeting me there in a few minutes."

 

"All right. Come find me when you're ready to go home. OK, little duck?"

 

With Prim's assurance, Katniss spins on her heels and begins to walk towards the line of booths and the bonfire beyond. 

 

As soon as she makes Peeta out in the distance, her heart skips a beat. He's standing to the side of the pile of kindle which will soon become a roaring fire; chin up, back straight. His blue eyes, a reflection of the summer sky above, follow her every move. 

 

XXXXX

 

 

"Hey!" Peeta says as soon as Katniss is close enough to hear him over the ruckus of people lugging the large pieces of wood they'll use for the bonfire. 

 

"Been here long?" she asks.

 

"No," He points in the general direction of the booths. "I just took a quick look at the stalls with Delly and the others."

 

"The others?"

 

"Yeah. Sam and… Lena."

 

"Lena?" The warm tendrils of embarrassment creep up her neck and color her cheeks. She knows she's being nosy, but his hesitation intrigues her. 

 

"The carpenter's daughter," Peeta explains. When Katniss doesn't say anything, he adds. "She's one year below us in school."

 

"Ah!" Katniss nods— as if Lena's age is enough to explain why she's never heard of her before— and then, because she simply can't stop herself, she asks, "You're friends with her?"

 

"Um…" Peeta glances around. His eyes dart through the people around them, but they can't seem to settle anywhere. 

 

If Katniss didn't know any better, she'd think he was trying to come up with a lie, but she knows that's not the case. Peeta is a smooth liar, and he's only hesitating because he wants to tell her the truth. The fact that he's having such a hard time coming up with the right words makes her uneasy.  

 

Peeta's eyes finally find a neutral place to land --Katniss is not surprised to discover he's chosen her braid.  _ He did that sometimes _ , she remembers. 

 

"We're not friends," he says, somewhat defensively. "We're… acquaintances… I guess. I don't really know her that well… yet."

 

Katniss nods. She doesn't need any more explanations, she gets it. Peeta's relationship with Lena isn't really about friendship —or romance— it's about practicality; about planning ahead.

 

District 12 isn't big enough to have three bakers —four if you count Peeta's father. It seems that the Mellarks have started looking for an alternative trade for their third son. 

 

It's much too early to guarantee a wedding, of course. Engagements can be broken, and Peeta and Lena still have a few more reapings ahead of them, but that hasn't stopped their families from trying to find an advantageous match for their children.

 

A sad smile lifts Katniss's lips as her heart slowly takes in the news. Peeta, her old Peeta, the boy who once told Panem he'd had a crush on her for as long as he could remember, is currently engaged to a girl he barely knows. 

 

She wants to be mad at him for never telling her; for allowing his jealousy over Gale to fuel his anger when it was him who was involved with someone else all along. But she can't. Not when he's here, standing right in front of her and ignoring all others; risking his mother's wrath and his father's disappointment just to spend a few minutes with a stubborn girl from the Seam who still hasn't thanked him for saving her life.  

 

The flash of a memory breaks through her thoughts, and she sees Peeta walking out of the room after agreeing to marry her. 

 

_ That was the second time that choice was taken away from him.  _ Katniss thinks. _  No wonder he was so upset.  _

 

This new realization floors her, but the fleeting stab of pain she feels for having put Peeta through that useless charade acts like a wake up call, a reminder of the hatred she harbors for President Snow and her need to be rid of him. 

 

Before the darkness can pull her any deeper, Katniss asks, "Want to take a walk?"

 

"Sure!" A hint of relief paints Peeta's smile as he signals to the field behind him. "Lead the way."

 

Resisting the urge to slip her hand in his, Katniss leads them behind the line of booths and towards the fence. Some people are already walking there to escape a bit from the crowd, so it's not as if they're alone, but the air is fresher, and it's far less noisy. With the woods so close by, she can even hear herself think.  

 

"So… last day of school, huh?" Peeta says.

 

"Yup. Got any plans for the summer?"

 

"The usual: help out at the bakery, watch the recaps… You?"

 

Katniss smiles, this conversation is so painfully ordinary, so utterly conventional. It's like no conversation they've ever had, and yet, it feels like the most promising one ever. Eager to keep it going, she answers, "The usual: help out at home, trade, watch the recaps…"

 

Peeta laughs. "Looks like there's not that much to do around here."

 

They're about to reach the place where the grass turns to gravel when Katniss stops and reaches for Peeta's elbow. "Listen, I need to tell you something."

 

Peeta stops. His eyes flit between the point where she's touching his arm and her face. "You OK?"

 

Katniss nods. She wants to say that, "Yes, she's fine --perfect even," but she can't. Her heart is beating a mile a minute, and she's as nauseous as if a swarm of angry tracker jackers was buzzing in her stomach, but she can't turn back now. 

 

With trembling fingers, Katniss slips her hand into her hunting bag and pulls out a bundle —as wide and long as her extended palm— wrapped in a worn linen handkerchief. "Thank you," she says, presenting Peeta with the package. 

 

Peeta's jaw drops. "What for?" Too stunned for words, he shakes his head. "I haven't—," 

 

"For the bread," she cuts in trying to keep her voice from cracking. 

 

Peeta stands still, looking at the bundle like it's a piece of the moon that has somehow landed in her hands. 

 

"From when we were kids," she adds, hoping the words he once told her will help him understand. 

 

It works. Peeta's eyes open wide, and she knows: he remembers. "Katniss, that—," 

 

"That was ages ago," she finishes for him. "I know. I should have said something sooner." She pushes the little bundle in her hands towards him once again. "I know this isn't much. But…" 

 

Tears pool in her eyes and she tries to blink them away, but she's too late; a couple of them run down her cheeks, past her neck, and land on the faded linen blouse she carefully chose for her first outing with the  _ boy with the bread _ . 

 

Embarrassed by her display, Katniss wipes her cheeks dry with the back of her hand. Peeta's tentative touch on her elbow stills her motions. 

 

"Katniss, please don't cry."

 

She nods, smiling a little through her tears. "I just need you to know that I remember --that I could never forget-- because without that bread my sister and I wouldn't be here today."

 

Peeta's eyes glisten with the tears he hasn't shed, the tears he's trying so hard to keep inside because this is the second time they've ever spoken, and he doesn't want to look like the kind of person who can't control his emotions. 

 

But she knows better —and she knows him— and she knows he's hurting because, even though he did plenty, Peeta's always wished he could have done more. 

 

"Katniss, I—,"

 

Once again, she offers her gift. "Just take it, please?"

 

Peeta's hands wrap around the small parcel holding it as carefully as if it were a bomb. "OK. But, just so we're clear, you didn't need to do this. Seriously, you don't owe me anything."

 

They've had this conversation before, so she knows he means it. It was the kind of thing that drove her mad about him, the fact that he could do something without expecting anything in return. She used to think it was because he was a pampered brat, a son of privilege who could afford to hand out tokens and ponder about the injustices of the world because he had everything he needed and more, but she knows better now. 

 

Peeta's life is far from perfect, but he's still generous, and kind… and incredibly stubborn, and she's not going to waste the precious time they have left by arguing with him. 

 

With an exaggerated eye roll that shows him she doesn't agree, she lets the matter drop. "Yeah, yeah. Open it," she instructs.

 

With the same delicate movements he uses to frost the most detailed cookies, Peeta unwraps the little bundle. Six brand new pencils, a different color each, appear on his palm. 

 

As if afraid that someone might snatch them away, Peeta closes his hand over the pencils and brings it to his chest. "How did you know?"

 

Katniss shrugs. "I guessed. I knew you decorated the cakes and the cookies, so I figured that maybe you like to draw, too."

 

"I do. I just…" Peeta looks down at the bunch of pencils. He's holding them so tightly she fears he might break them, but the look of awe in his eyes tells her he won't. 

 

"So…," Katniss nods towards the pencils when she can't take the silence anymore, "are they OK?"

 

Peeta beams at her —infatuation written all over his face. He looks so radiant and handsome that she has to wrap her arms around herself to keep from reaching out and touching him. 

 

"Of course, they are, Katniss, they're perfect!" His cheeks turn pink as he unwraps the pencils to take a better look. "I've never had anything like this before. My father used to give us bits of chalk to play around with when we were little, but I've never had a set of new pencils all of my own. I…," His eyes find hers. They're still a bit shy, but there's a glint of seriousness in them she knows all too well. "Are you sure this is OK?"

 

"Yes." She nods for emphasis. 

 

The old Katniss, the one who lived this day the first time, wouldn't have agreed —buying six brand new pencils was an extravagance she couldn't afford. But this Katniss, the one who has been through two arenas and who knows her sister is about to be reaped, has decided that giving Peeta those pencils and settling that debt is far more important than keeping her coins under the mattress because, if history repeats itself, her mother and Prim won't need the money; and, if it doesn't… Well... she'll just have to work harder during the summer to make up for the loss.

 

"Thank you, Katniss," Peeta says, wrapping the pencils back in the handkerchief and slipping them into his pocket. 

 

Now that the conversation is over, Katniss breathes easier. With a quick glance, she takes in their surroundings.

 

The summer fair is in full swing. The area with the stalls is crowded, people wait in line to buy one last glass of lemonade or a bag of popcorn while the group of men who were carrying the wood earlier lights the bonfire. To the side of the blaze, a three-man band strums their guitars with a lively tune. Couples from both parts of town have gathered around them, they smile and clap, tapping their feet in time with the music. 

 

The smell of smoke and gardenias fills the air now that the sun is about to set. Before long, everyone will be dancing. 

 

"Want to walk a little longer?" Peeta asks so shyly it makes her heart ache. 

 

"We could take a turn along the fence," she suggests as she starts walking.

 

Peeta falls in step with her. His heavy footfalls crush every leaf and twig in their path. "So… um. What's your favorite color?"

 

Katniss bursts out laughing. She can't believe they're having this conversation again. They're exactly where she hoped they'd be. 

 

Peeta tilts his head to look at her, eyebrows squished together in confusion. "What's so funny?"

 

"I don't know, it's just… Why do you want to know that?"

 

"Well… I like colors. They're everywhere." Looking back at the Meadow, he adds, "There's an entire language hidden in the shapes and shades that surround us —a language that speaks of life's moments, of the connections we make, the bonds we forge— but its words are constantly changing. I'd like to capture them, to commit them to paper so I can remember them --enjoy them-- even after they're gone."

 

Katniss smiles. She's never heard him say those things before, but she's seen the things he can do. The moments and ideas he can capture on paper.  _ I wish I could freeze this moment, right here, right now, and live in it forever _ . Her mind whispers.

 

Before her memories can pull her down the rabbit hole of pain and longing she knows all too well, she mumbles, "It's green."

 

"Green?" Peeta's smile is so infectious she finds herself mirroring it as she nods in confirmation. 

 

With a sigh, Katniss turns to look out into the woods. The sun is setting behind the mountains. A spectacular orange and yellow blaze lights the sky behind the tall firs and maples that surround the district.

 

"And you?" she asks, even though she already knows the answer. "What's your favorite color?"

 

Peeta looks up to the sky. "See that band of golden orange lighting the clouds?"

 

"Mm-hmm."

 

"That's it."

 

XXXXX

 

They spend the next hour walking along the edge of the Meadow; never too far from the action, but not too close either. 

 

As they walk, they talk about things that are at once familiar and somehow entirely new and, before she knows it, they're already laughing together. 

 

As they're about to turn around, Peeta gets a bit more serious and talks about his brothers. He says he's happy for Bran —who is about to get married to someone he loves— and a little envious of Rye, who's one reaping away from aging out. 

 

Katniss listens, savoring his words and smiling at the things he says; not because she's supposed to --like she once did-- but because she's happy to be there with him and wants to hear everything he has to say. 

 

When he asks about Prim, Katniss's eyes light up. Pride warms her words as she tells him as much as she can about her baby sister without bursting into tears. 

 

Peeta listens and nods at all the right moments. The warmth in his eyes makes her feel beautiful and cherished. Under his gaze, she grows stronger and more powerful than she's been in months.  

 

By the time they reach the bonfire again, night has fallen over District 12. The merchant booths are closing, and people have gathered to watch their friends and neighbors take a spin on a makeshift dance floor in front of the blaze. The crowd raises their voices in a happy song to keep the fear of the reaping at bay.  

 

"I should go find Prim," Katniss says. "It's getting late."

 

With a curt nod, Peeta slips his hands in his pants' pockets. She's half expecting to see him bounce in place in that self-soothing tick of his when, instead, he stills. "Will you go out with me again?" he asks.

 

Katniss opens her mouth to speak and then closes it back again —suddenly unsure— but, before her brain can come up with an excuse to override her instincts, she blurts, "Sure. I'd like that."

 

Peeta's easy smile returns. They're so close to the bonfire now that the blaze lights up his face and makes him glow. 

 

_ Forget about prep teams and fancy clothes,  _ Katniss thinks _ , Peeta doesn't need Cinna and his artificial embers, he can dazzle the world just like this.  _

 

She's so mesmerized by him that, for a split second, she considers throwing herself into his arms and kissing him like she did in the cave… or on the beach.  _ This could be our first kiss. Right here, without cameras, without careers, without mutts _ . 

 

Her heart is beating madly, her hands longing to reach out, but she stops herself. It's just not right. The Peeta standing before her barely knows her. He's probably not opposed to kissing her, but he wouldn't understand.

 

Utterly oblivious to her reckless thoughts, Peeta asks, "Maybe we could do something tomorrow, you know? Um… after?" 

 

After. One small word is all it takes to bring Katniss back to reality and to send her heart plummeting to her feet. Trying to keep the dread in her bones from taking over, she says, "That sounds good."

 

"I'll go find you once it's over."

 

Katniss nods, desperate for the conversation to be over. She doesn't want to ruin the beautiful afternoon they just spent with her tears, but the reminder of the upcoming reaping has sucked all the air out of her. "I'll be at the back… with Prim and my mother."

 

Peeta dips his head in a small kind of bow and takes a step back, putting some distance between them as if releasing her. "Go find Prim," he says --looking at her with that mix of admiration and tenderness which made her so uncomfortable in the past, "I'll see you tomorrow."

 

Overcome with a surge of affection, Katniss brings her hand to her chest. Her traitorous heart beats madly under her palm —asking Peeta to come back. "See you tomorrow," she repeats, ignoring the blood pounding in her veins as she turns on her heel to go find her sister. 

 

XXXXX

 

It's a long night. 

 

Katniss lays in bed, unable to sleep. Alone. Peeta is back in town, --sleeping in his old bedroom above the bakery for what will be the last time— and Prim has chosen the comfort of her mother's arms tonight. With no one to stop her, the huntress tosses and turns as she anxiously awaits the break of dawn

 

Trying to pass the time, Katniss reviews her plans for the following days: Go out into the woods tomorrow, and then to the town square. Volunteer for Prim. Get Haymitch to put the bottle down and help us. Follow Cinna's instructions. Train. Breeze through my interview with Caesar, and act surprised when Peeta declares his love for me. Go to the arena. Lay low until I can partner up with Peeta. Stay alive. 

 

Her throat constricts as she tries to keep herself from crying. It's not an easy plan. There are too many variables, too many things that could go wrong —things she didn't notice the first time, but that could come back and bite her. 

 

An then there's the people. She can't wait to see Cinna and Portia again —alive and well and thriving— but she's not looking forward to watching Rue and all the others die. And still, she knows she can't stop their deaths either. Her knowledge doesn't give her that kind of power. 

 

What she can do, however, is make sure that her fellow tributes don't die in vain. This time around, she'll make sure that their deaths mean something; that their names aren't forgotten; that their blood isn't washed away. 

 

This time, she'll make sure that President Snow is the one who pays. 

**Author's Note:**

> You can also find me on Tumblr. I'm JavisTG over there, come and say hi!
> 
> The Hunger Games Trilogy is the property of Suzanne Collins. No money was made off of the creation of this fanwork.


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